


Do you know anyone named Miguel?

by sophieelivingston



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunited and It Feels So Good, To Kill a Mockingbird References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophieelivingston/pseuds/sophieelivingston
Summary: AU where Evan Hansen never writes the letter that drives Connor Murphy out of school in a fitted rage. One where they find kindred spirits in each other, and eventually become friends. One where they accept one another and become better people through their friendship.When Evan accidentally runs into Conner’s old flame, he later tells Conner what happened during a study session. Finding no way around it, Conner forces himself to admit to Evan (and himself) that he still misses that special someone.





	Do you know anyone named Miguel?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any properties of Dear Evan Hansen in anyway possible 
> 
> WARNING: Do not read this fic if you haven’t read the book because there will be spoilers!  
I REPEAT SPOILER ALERT!

Evan and I sat down at his bedroom desk, to start preparing notes for our book report on “How to Kill a Mockingbird”. Every year since eighth grade, the book chosen for our class to report is always something that I’ve already read. Though I wouldn’t complain about feeling ahead of the class, the same assignment, with the same instructions, and the same routine, has grown a bit old in recent years. Which is why I was a little relieved, if not excited, to do it with Evan this year. Being paired up with someone who actually cares about the assignment and myself.

“-and then we’ll write a paragraph about how and why Atticus represents the good side of human nature - ” I said planning the outline of our assignment, when I looked over at Evan to find that he was barely listening. It looked like something was bothering him, with that frown and discerning look in his eye. He was definitely somewhere else, perhaps that path he always goes down when things get bad. The part of his brain where nothing good ever happens.

“Hey Ev?” I spoke up to get Evan’s attention, but he didn’t budge. I tapped his shoulder and repeated “Ev?” until he flinched and met my eyes.

“Uh... oh yeah sorry. You were saying?”

I could’ve continued with my plans for our project, leave alone whatever was bothering him. It was probably none of my business anyway. Besides, it was always annoying when someone asked if something was bothering me, whether it was Cynthia, or Larry, or Zoe, or my teachers. Because they didn’t really know me, they couldn’t help me. At any time they’d actually guess correctly that something was wrong, they’d either try to relate to me and unknowingly fail, or misunderstand why the thing that’s wrong actually matters to me. But ever since I’ve met Evan, I’ve found someone in my life that actually has a clue of what I’m going through. Feeling invisible and alone, and having no one able to help you.

“You ok?”

Evan looked away and winced as if disgusted by that question, “Well... I-I”

“Cause you seem a bit more freaked out than usual, did something happen?

Evan still refused to look at me. 

“Evan, I can tell when you’re hiding something. You make it painfully obvious, it’s kind of hard to watch.”

Evan chuckled a bit before frowning and looking at me.

“Well actually... something did happen, but I didn’t know whether to tell you or not.”

My heart skipped a beat. 

What if the reason Evan is keeping this from me, is because it’s something that will actually hurt me. I hoped it was something dumb, like someone at school saying something mean behind my back. But I had a feeling it was bigger than that.

“What. Happened?” I said with a bit more intended tone, telling Evan he can’t back out now.

With a heavy sigh, Evan frowned at his fidgeting hands and then up at me. “Earlier today,” he said, “when I was picking up groceries at Ralph’s...” He swallowed as if a large rock was stuck in his throat.

“Yes...” I encouraged him to move on with his story.

“I-I ran into someone...”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Well, that’s kind of what ** _ I _ ** want to know...”

Evan was talking to me as if I already knew the answer, that I apparently  ** _didn’t_ ** want him to know. Who could he have possibly ran into, that I would know anything about. Besides Evan and my own family, barely anyone knows me in and outside of school. Well maybe I’m forgetting one particular person, but there’s no way it could be who I’m thinking of.

“Do you know anyone named Miguel?”

My heart suddenly dropped into my stomach. No wait, further than that. Maybe even out of my butt. I haven’t heard that name in a very long time. Just the sound of his name made my face heat up like a parking lot on a hot day, and my head felt like a deflating balloon. Last time I spoke to him was the first day of senior year. I hadn’t talked to him for the whole summer, but decided to go out on a whim, and send him a text:

_ ‘“First days blow. Hope you’re steering clear of Mr. Nielsen’s morning breath. _

I waited for an answer. It felt like a whole eternity before I felt my phone buzz in my front pocket. It was a message from him: a thumbs up emoji.  _ Huh? _ I tried to intercept. It left me with a strange feeling. Like he almost didn’t care. After an eventful day of recklessness followed by reconciliation, I left school and saw it again on my phone: that thumbs up. Suddenly, it looked different to me. Took on a new light. Like a beacon of hope. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad replay after all. It’s not like I gave him much to respond to. I sent him another message:

_ I miss you. _

I waited for his message. But it never came. 

I cried. So much. I vowed to make it stop. The hurt.

I wiped him from my past. Erased the photos in my phone. Deleted his text messages. Removed his name from my contacts.”’ 

I’ve done everything I could to forget about him, suppressing his memory ever since. Now with senior year being almost over, I’ve made it almost nine months without even thinking about him.

Thanks a lot Evan.

“Connor?” he said frowning.

I realised that I’ve left earth for a moment, and Evan had to pull me back down. I struggled to speak, for it felt more agonizing than I thought. Nine months ago I knew that I couldn’t run away from him forever. I just didn’t know it would feel so hard to stop running. I took a deep breath, wishing that I could keep the air in my lungs forever, and reluctantly breathed out.

“Miguel...” I gulped, “was an old friend.” 

Evan’s frown grew wider, he knew that if Miguel really was just an ‘old friend’ I wouldn’t be choking back tears in order to say his name.

“Was he… more than a friend?” he spoke softly.

I looked at Evan and said “No. Well- I mean I wanted him to be, and I think he wanted the same thing as well. But it just... never happened.” I paused for a moment, “he was a really good friend though.”

“So then… what did happened?”

I thought back to when it all went down, figuring how hard it would be to explain. Not that I minded Evan knowing about what happened, I just didn’t think I could talk about it without completely breaking down. 

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said truthfully, “lets just say I kept pushing him away until he eventually gave up.”

“Aww come on,” Evan half-smiled “I’m pretty sure that’s not what happened.”

“Well how do you know,  ** _you weren’t there!”_ **

I regretted raising my voice. It’s not like Evan crossed A line or anything, I just really hated reminiscing about what happened. All of my anger, sadness, and angst was being pushed right up to the surface. I tried to change the subject.

“Did he say anything about me?” I asked.

Evan lifted his head up, “He said it was good to know you had new friends.”

I couldn’t tell what that meant. Was Miguel mad that I was trying to move on? Did he miss understand and think I completely forgot about him? Or was he sincerely happy that I was making new friends? 

“God I wish I could talk to him.” Did I say that out loud?

“Why don’t you?” Evan’s eyes widened with a more excited light.

“I don’t know, Evan…” I frowned and looked away again. “A lot has happened before you and I met. My time with Miguel has been some of the best years of my life, but we didn’t exactly end on good terms.”

“Still not saying it’s anyone's fault, but is there anything you’ve said or done that you wish you could take back?”

“Well yeah of course, but I don’t know if I can.”

I hopped Evan wouldn’t protest. I knew that he understood all too well what it feels like not being able to face someone. Though you may have so many things you want to say to that person, and you’ve even thought over how you’d say it, you know that in the end it all comes down to whether you’re strong enough to actually say it to their faces. And even if you are, you may not believe it yourself. 

“I understand,” he said calmly.

I sniffles and said “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “I mean I don’t think you should try and forget about him, cause he seemed like he misses you too.”

“I know,” I nodded “and I won’t. Not this time.”

Evan and I smiled at each other. 

Before moving on with our assignment he said “Hey, you wanna get some food after this?”

I nodded, “Sure.”

“Bell house?”

“Duh.”

* * *

Nothing like eating pancakes for dinner, in an empty Bell House, at 10 o’clock at night. Evan and I always order the same meal: pancakes with strawberry butter on top, side of hashbrowns, and OJ. When the food comes to our table, we split our order in half. Evan only likes to eat pancakes, while I like to eat the hashbrowns. After spending the evening in a dark room writing about the coexistence of good and evil, I was just about ready to get some food in me, though I could never be ready for what happened next. As Evan and I came closer to the pancake house, I noticed that it seemed to be nearly empty. Besides the one waitress standing behind the register, and the chef probably making pancake batter in the kitchen, there was only one customer sitting alone in a booth. Just as it always was at around 10:00pm. Though when Evan and I stepped inside, the only customer immediately stood up from his booth, and I got a better look at him. I immediately recognized every feature, from his light brown skin, to his wavy dark hair, down to the freckles on his cheeks, those which I’ve used to compare that of chocolate sprinkles. It was Miguel. You know that moment when you suddenly feel about a hundred emotions in all one second? Well it’s about as exhausting as it sounds. All of the harsh memories started to rush back like a boomerang to the face. The time when Miguel and I first met at Hanover School for Boys, sophomore year, and I kept telling him jokes during our first biology class together. The time I covered for him when the dean discovered weed in his locker, resulting in my expulsion after only two semesters. The time I ran away when he told me he wanted more insight into my life, to see the real me. I ran for my life and didn’t look back. I then wondered if I did, would it feel more or less painful then it does now? (Probably less.)

I felt so winded, that all I could think of to say was “M?”

“Hey Connor,” he said with a nervous yet warm smile.

My brain was telling my legs to walk out of there immediately, find somewhere I can process this, catch my breath, and come back when I’m ready. However, for the first time in years, my heart was in full control. I watched my feet walk over to Miguel, until I was only standing a foot away from him. 

Still smiling nervously, Miguel looked down at the floor and rubbed his neck, “I uh… missed you,” he said.

‘I missed you too” I replied as I gave an equally nervous smile back.

Miguel chuckled half-heartedly, and his nervous smile turned sly, “How do you tell the sex of a chromosome?”

Suddenly my anxiety washed away like low tide.

“Pull down its genes!” We said simultaneously before bursting out in laughter.

It was one of the first jokes I ever told Miguel during biology class. The fact that he hasn’t changed as much as I feared. That he’d still be there to give weird remarks in the most awkward of situations, made me feel even better.

Still laughing, I brought him in for a hug.

I’ve always imagined how I’d make up with Miguel, and even though I could never predict something like this - hugging him inside an empty Bell House at night, with Evan and a likely confused waitress watching - I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because I knew at that moment, neither of us would be lost again.


End file.
